


Come Dancing

by sekiharatae



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-05-01
Updated: 2009-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-12 12:32:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekiharatae/pseuds/sekiharatae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud asked Tifa on a date, and now has a bit of a problem to overcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Dancing

The shift from _best friends living together_ to _couple_ happened almost overnight. Many people were under the impression that they'd been a couple since before Seventh Heaven ever opened its doors. In truth, they'd both been hesitant, misunderstanding the signals they sent and received, and so had circled and stumbled around each other for far too long.

After geostigma, the stumbling stopped.

Tifa wanted Cloud, and had made it clear.

Cloud wanted Tifa, and had stopped avoiding it.

At first, the hugs and kisses they exchanged were careful and a bit awkward: each approaching the other cautiously, trying to be certain their advances were welcome. People watching assumed they'd had a spat, probably back when Cloud left, and were slowing making up over their past differences. Soon, though, their nervousness vanished, and they were as comfortable with displays of affection as they'd ever been with just talking. Cloud could come home from a delivery and give Tifa a kiss – right there in the bar! – and have it be casual and familiar and wonderfully welcome. Tifa could cling as close as possible when they went for a ride on Fenrir, and not be worried about invading his space or scaring him away.

And the bar patrons, and the people they passed on the street, thought to themselves how nice it was that the attractive young couple had reconciled their differences.

Regardless of what other people thought, though, Cloud knew they hadn't been a couple before. He also knew – almost peripherally, as he had no first hand experience – that it was unusual to skip dating entirely, going to bed single and waking up the next morning in a committed relationship, whether you were still sleeping in separate beds or not. He wasn't complaining. It was a relief to know that Tifa felt the same way about him that he did about her, and that they were together now, and moving forward. It was just that he felt, deep down, where his teenage dreams lingered and his sappier impulses were spawned, that Tifa deserved the dating and the flowers as well.

They did date. Sort of. It was actually kind of strange to ask the woman you lived with, who cooked your meals and washed your clothes and always had time for your kisses, out on a date. There was an understanding there that she would always say yes, jumping at the chance to spend time alone with you. So it was far easier and more natural to just... do it, rather than planning it ahead of time. Although still dispersed across the planet, their friends had begun making a greater effort to drop by and visit; so between Barret and Shera (never Cid) and a few of the neighborhood parents – and once or twice, with trepidation on the part of all involved, Yuffie – there was usually someone willing to watch the kids if they wanted to take off for an afternoon. Little outings to the shops, or quick trips on Fenrir, even occasionally to the movies. But all such excursions were things they might have done as friends, so there wasn't much that was special or significant about them. Once you discounted the kissing and hand holding, anyway.

Which was how Cloud found himself in his current predicament. He'd decided that he needed to take Tifa somewhere special, on a real date. To show her their new closeness wasn't something he took for granted, or felt he'd just fallen into the way a cat could trip over it's own paws in an astounding display of clumsiness, and still land on its feet. So he'd broached the subject with her, and asked if there was anything in particular she'd like to do, anyplace she'd like to go.

Shyly, after a bit of coaxing and cuddling, she'd confessed that she would really like to go dancing. It had always been a celebration of sorts back in Nibelheim, groups engaging in reels and squares in the streets during town festivals, while elegant couples moved together in the houses of the wealthy. Going dancing would be a way of remembering that tradition from their childhood, a celebration not of the harvest or a religious holiday, but that they'd once more triumphed over Sephiroth and adversity.

So he'd smiled and nodded and promised to try and arrange it, and she'd squealed and thrown her arms around him in a fierce, breath-stealing hug.

There was only one problem: Cloud didn't know how to dance. If they went to one of the clubs that had opened in edge, the kind Yuffie liked to babble about, he might be able to manage. People packed into those places like sardines, and he wouldn't actually be expected to move much. He knew, though, that Tifa would want something more than that. She would want the kind of dancing she remembered as the daughter of the most influential man in town, the kind found in the more expensive dinner clubs. The kind that involved actually knowing what to do with his feet and hands and everything in between.

Actually, that was only the main problem. The secondary problem was that he didn't know very many people, which limited his options as to where he could get help. The tertiary problem was that he wasn't _comfortable_ with people, which meant even if he knew who to ask, asking was beyond difficult.

With a sigh and a glance around the church - most specifically at the buster sword in its new home beside him - he opened his phone. "You two can keep quiet," he warned in a no-nonsense tone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Reeve's number, "this is embarrassing enough without comments from the lifestream peanut gallery." There was a hint of masculine laughter in reply, abruptly silenced with a grunt – most likely due to a well-placed elbow – and Cloud smirked, knowing Aerith had silenced Zack. It was easy to imagine her soft-eyed expression as she sighed over how sweet he was to be making such an effort. There was no way she'd let Zack ruin this for Tifa by teasing him.

Reeve answered almost before the phone had a chance to ring, and greetings were exchanged. Cait Sith could be heard shouting hello in the background – as always, Cloud wondered exactly how much independence the little robot had – and Cloud promised both man and machine that everything was fine at Seventh Heaven. The answering pause on the other end of the phone was questioning, Reeve clearly wondering why Cloud had called. They were friends, good friends, but Cloud wasn't the type to call just to chat.

Sighing again, hand unconsciously reaching to rub the back of his head in a nervous gesture, Cloud decided it was best to just get it over with and ask. "Reeve, do you know how to dance?" The silence on the other end of the line shifted from questioning to surprised. "Or maybe know someone who can teach me?"

Reeve leaned back in his chair, unable and unwilling to restrain the grin breaking out across his face. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Out of the handful of people I know," came the rather dry response, "you have the greatest chance of answering yes." The older man had to agree that was true, although Vincent probably knew a bit about dancing as well. "You're also less likely to give me a hard time than anyone else."

"I do know how to dance. I also expect I can find someone to give you lessons. Let me make some calls and see what can be arranged." Reeve knew people all over Gaia; surely one of them knew someone who knew someone. "Is it alright if I ask why you feel the urge to two-step?"

Cloud felt his cheeks flush at the mild laughter and teasing in the other man's voice. "Tifa."

Reeve chuckled at the not unexpected one-word answer. "Of course. I'll get back to you in a few days."

"Thanks."

It was actually less than a day before Reeve phoned to give him the name and address of a woman who ran a dance studio in Kalm. The studio was between sessions, and the owner – Tallulah Lightstep – had originally planned to close for a few weeks. Plans had gone awry at the last moment, however, and she'd been more than happy to take on the task of teaching one of the planet's greatest heroes how to dance.

Or so she said when Cloud called to arrange his first lesson. He'd shyly replied that she had yet to meet him, and warned that he had big feet.

Once the appointment was set, he decided to entrust Marlene and Denzel with his secret. Given the choice between being away from home after dark, or cancelling a few hours of deliveries a day to make time for the lessons, he chose the latter. He didn't want to worry Tifa with the change in schedule, and couldn't think of an excuse to explain the late nights that didn't involve work. Avoiding afternoon jobs was a bit easier, and with the help of the kids he could also keep Tifa from finding out. When he explained it to them, Marlene was delighted, while Denzel seemed skeptical. In any event, they took over answering the phone in his office – Tifa finding it adorable that he was letting them help – and made sure his afternoons were free of delivery commitments.

When he arrived in Kalm for his first lesson, he was pleasantly surprised. Tallulah turned out to be about Tifa's height, if a little more round and a little less fit. Her manner was friendly and easy going, her attitude patient. She was also twice his age, which was somehow comforting. Once he relaxed, he could almost pretend he was receiving dance lessons from his mother, and he'd never felt clumsy around her.

It was far more comfortable than taking lessons from a stranger.

Despite his warning over the phone, she assured him his feet were perfectly fine. "You're fortunate to have both a right and a left," she told him, "that puts you in better standing than half the men I teach." She did recommend he wear something other than work boots for their lessons, as the heavy, serviceable shoes were less than light or graceful. When they began walking through the steps of various forms, however, he proved he was a quick learner, ungainly shoes or not. In fact, to his surprise, the biggest problem he had to overcome was being self-conscious. He spent a lot of time flushed and feeling silly, completely out of his element. Finally Tallulah told him, in no uncertain terms, that he had no reason to be ashamed. "Learning to dance isn't going to damage your masculinity, sweetheart, especially when you're doing it to impress your girl." She patted him on the arm, the gesture both reassuring and condescending. "That's sexy and considerate," she insisted. "Now stop worrying and get comfortable in your own skin."

The lecture made her seem even more like his mother, and he responded as he always had when called on the carpet: by shuffling his feet and quietly replying, "Yes ma'am." Which had made her laugh, eventually encouraging him to grin a bit as well.

They made quick progress. Over the course of the first lesson, Cloud learned how to move to the music, whether fast or slow, with a partner or by himself. It was surprising how little was required to put him on par with most of the population, and in the space of a few hours he went from feeling hopelessly behind, to overly informed.

"The average man just needs to be shown where to put his hands and how to sense the beat, be taught a minimal amount of footwork, and he goes away happy," Tallulah explained. "Even knowing where to put his hands is optional, as it can vary depending on partner and situation." She grinned when the meaning behind that sank in, and Cloud flushed yet again. "The question now is, are you happy being average, or do you really want to impress this Tifa?"

That had been an easy question to answer. He'd always wanted to impress Tifa, and if Tallulah could teach him something that would not only impress, but pleasantly surprise, he was willing to learn.

During his second lesson, he learned to waltz. During his third, it was the foxtrot. When he arrived for his fourth, he had a quiet fit of laughter to learn they were going to work on the Highwind Hop. (Later he was a bit embarrassed to realize it was his favorite so far, the beat faster and more free form.) Each day for almost two weeks he went for lessons, learning a new form each time. Around the eighth lesson Cloud became a bit worried he'd get all of the different steps confused under pressure. That spawned a lesson or two on improvisation and combining steps however best seemed to fit the music.

"The fact that you know how to do the turns and spins and fancy footwork is the important part," Tallulah assured him. "You're not in a competition, so just let the music decide how you should move."

He also came to realize that, for much of the time, he was just a mobile and supportive prop. The instructor laughed when he said so, arguing that he was more than that, but that it was true the woman was generally the one showing off her moves. Tifa showing off and having fun was a very pleasant idea, and Cloud was glad he'd made that call to Reeve, even if it had taken him out of his comfort zone, forced him to meet someone new, and interact in a way he never had before.

For their final lesson, Tallulah promised something special. When he arrived, she was wearing a rather flamboyant dress, one that flared when she turned, and showed off her legs. It was an unexpected change, and Cloud knew his expression indicated his surprise.

"If you really want to wow Tifa and your friends, there's one sure way," she explained, walking over to the stereo system. "Today, I'm going to teach you the Costa del Sol tango."

Usually stoic features switched from surprise to skepticism, with a hint of distaste.

"What's wrong with the Costa tango?" she demanded, standing with hands on hips to confront him, as if he'd personally offended her.

"Isn't that the one with the sweeping moves and the stiff arms and the stomping?" he returned, no longer easily flummoxed around her. Gesturing to further explain, he held one arm out in front of him while he embraced an imaginary partner in the other, and stalked down the room with exaggerated moves and a fair amount of noise.

Tallulah burst out laughing, whether at his demonstration or misconception he wasn't sure. "That's the ballroom tango. I wouldn't teach anyone that nonsense for free, much less when you're paying me good gil." Relieved, Cloud relaxed, then arched one brow in question. "The Costa tango is different. Trust me."

It was different. Partners stayed close together - hands, arms, legs, everything - and any sweeping movements were made in the form of kicks or turns, with as much of their bodies touching as could reasonably be managed. Footwork was extremely important, characterized by fancy kicks and lots of little steps where he was expected to trap her foot between his, or vice versa. In some ways, it was rather like fighting: he controlling the form and the direction, while she tried to change it with an assortment of embellishments.

With Tifa, it would be more like foreplay, especially if she ran her foot along his leg the way Tallulah demonstrated. That thought made him stumble, and Tallulah sent him an archly knowing look.

"The Costa tango is all about showing off. It's about sex and restrained passion. It's about control." As she spoke he twirled her across the floor, slowing as the music did to throw in a few steps from the paso doble, before picking it up again when the tempo rose. "Nice," she commented, smiling as they came to a stop. "Your Tifa will be pleased and impressed, I think."

Tallulah certainly was. That someone with such a careful and hesitant demeanor, obviously uncomfortable with meeting new people, would put so much time and effort into learning to dance? It made him something special, in a way that was different from saving the planet. The woman he'd done it for must be equally special.

Cloud only nodded, once more adopting that charmingly boyish uncertainty. His eyes gleamed with humor and a bit of surprise as he confessed, "This is more fun than I expected. Thank you."

She laughed and patted his cheek. "You can thank me after you see the surprise I have for you." Vanishing into a back room, she returned with a large white dressmaker's box, which she placed on the table by the stereo. She then picked up an envelope she'd left there earlier. "First, Mr. Tuesti wanted me to give this to you. Apparently, he sent them out a few days after you asked about dance lessons, but he had me hold on to yours until your lessons were over." Shaking her head as he slipped the envelope out of her hand, she laughed again. "I thought he was crazy when he told me what he had in mind, and said he trusted me to have you ready for it in two weeks. But he was right – you're the fastest student I've ever had."

A faint tinge of pink dusted his cheeks at the compliment, and he mumbled thanks as he opened the envelope. Inside was an elegant invitation, the WRO logo emblazoned at the top in bold colors. "It's for a charity ball," he murmured as he read.

"I know. The perfect opportunity to show off your new skills!"

His head shot up, eyes wide. After staring at her for a moment, he slowly relaxed again. "You're right. Tifa would love to go."

Tallulah nodded firmly, and turned back to the box. "Which is where this comes in. I had the feeling you wouldn't know what to pick." Removing the lid, she shifted aside a few layers of tissue to reveal an evening gown in shades of blue.

Cloud was once again overcome by confusion. He glanced from the box to Tallulah, back to the box, and then just stared at her with one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation. "What?"

Smiling softly, she tucked the tissue back into place, and put the lid back on the box. "Give it to her when you ask her, silly," she explained. "The number one nervous response a woman has when asked to go out is to worry about what she's going to wear. This way, she gets to be happy about the ball and the dress _and_ the fact that you asked her." She was well aware that Tifa had been waiting two weeks now for the promised dancing date, and had no idea what the hold up might be. It would not be unusual for her to assume he'd forgotten. Presenting her with the dress and Reeve's invitation would be a good way to show he hadn't.

His blue eyes held hope and skepticism in equal amounts as she handed him the box. "Are you sure? What if Tifa wanted to pick her own dress?"

Hands on hips, she adopted her offended pose. "If I'd selected some dime store floozy gown, I might be worried. But I've got far better taste than that."

His shy smile came and went as he looked down. "Thank you. What do I–"

"You don't owe me anything. You've paid for the lessons, and this is a gift." Reaching out, she caught his chin in surprisingly strong fingers, tilting his face down to hers. "If you ever need any advice or help or anything, you let me know." She let him go, folding her arms and nodding decisively. "A man like you sets a fine example for the hooligans we've got running around. I'm not having you slip up just because you don't know how to act."

Said young man blinked in surprise for a long moment, then broke into a wide, true smile. Had he thought she reminded him of his mother before? He'd been wrong. _Now_ she reminded him of his mother. Setting aside the box, he picked her up and gave her a squeeze before twirling her around into a dip. When he straightened, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," he said again, with one last squeeze of her hand. Then he retrieved the box and waved goodbye as he walked out the door.

Someday, he'd tell Tifa about this, and enjoy her reaction. Maybe he was better with people than they thought.

* * *

Friday morning Tifa awoke as usual, silencing the alarm and then taking the time to stretch thoroughly. Her feet shifted under the covers, bumping a light weight at the foot of the bed. Sitting up abruptly, she found a dress box and an open invitation, a note scrawled across the envelope in Cloud's no-nonsense hand. Happy tears pricked her eyes when she read the message he'd left, so certain that he'd been avoiding the idea after the last time they'd discussed it.

He hadn't.

There in dark blue ink against high quality white paper, was the proof.

Tifa,

I wanted to ask you in person, but you were sleeping too well. The WRO is having a charity ball. Would you like to go with me?

Cloud

P.S. I'll be home for dinner. Open the box.

**Author's Note:**

> The 'Highwind Hop' is a reference to the 'Lindy Hop', which was named for Lindbergh's Atlantic crossing.
> 
> The 'Costa del Sol tango' is a reference to the 'Argentine tango'.


End file.
